The Last Mistress
by Regina Phalangey
Summary: Youko Kurama hungers for the power of nobility. Marriage to a naive heiress can solve all his problems, but one person stands in the way. Kagome, his headstrong mistress of five decades is scorned and won't go without a fight.


I recently saw a terrific movie called The Last Mistress starring Asia Argento

I recently saw a terrific movie called The Last Mistress starring Asia Argento. I'm not sure if this is an attempt to procrastinate even more on Cute When you're Angry, but for my own purposes of denial, I'll just say that the plot of the movie inspired me so I am borrowing it for this new story. In no way does this mean that I own The Last Mistress, or Yu Yu Hakusho, or Inuyasha; I am only using them to express myself (if I could dance interpretively on paper I would but…). I'm also going to call it an exercise in character and story development since I generally don't write such serious and mature themes. My plot will not be the same as the movie; it will just follow the same basic outline. There will be humor (if I can manage it), but it will be darker than usual. As readers, you are all I have to tell me whether this sucks or not so PLEASE be honest. I promise I can take it. And now onward!

The Last Mistress Chapter 1

_There is only one big thing-desire. And before it, when it is big, all is little._

_-Willa Cather_

Her turquoise locks twisted neatly into the bun at the base of her neck. There was not a strand out of place in her stream of tame hair. Everything about Lady Botan was tame; tame and gentle, sweet and demure. She never raised her voice, or opposed the words of those around her. She lived strictly by her impeccable manners and good breeding. Her mild and obedient temperament, coupled with her purebred wealth and title made her the perfect candidate for a wife of nobility.

Youko Kurama had been thieving for thousands of years. His very name struck fear into the hearts of children and merchants, and lust into the hearts of women-and the occasional man. He had reached the height of fame and power… in his particular field. But, as is common in the nature of one who takes, he wanted more. He wanted to have the respect and fear of all powerful lords and kings. He wanted to have reign over lands and kingdoms, and Lady Botan was his key to all of it.

Botan's father, Seshoumaru, was lord of the Western Lands and his health was failing fast. Botan was his only child and heir to his vast empire. Botan was renowned for her beauty and purity. Demons from all over Makai sought her hand in marriage. The man who became her husband would gain not only her kingdom and wealth, but also an infallible respect from all other nobles. For a man with such a fabled and lovely wife could only be viewed as a man worth respecting.

Kurama wanted that wealth, he wanted that power, and he wanted that respect. Once he had all that, everyone of stature was subject to his greed and his ambition. For this reason he wanted to marry Lady Botan, and Youko Kurama always got what he wanted.

So there he sat, successfully winning over his naïve and unassuming prize. Botan was easy to romance; a soft stroke to her hair, a gentle touch to her hand, softly spoken compliments, feigned interest in her thoughts or stories (which were quite one-dimensional) and Botan was in love with him. Today was the day he would propose. They were sitting in the garden and she was telling him about her day. He took her hand and she blushed with pleasure a she turned her head slightly to hide her delighted smile.

_This is so simple,_ he thought with twisted pride.

"Botan?"

His voice contained the miraculous combination of seduction and innocence. He was a master of deception. Only one had ever truly seen through him.

"Yes, Lord Kurama?"

He was so handsome she could barely breathe. She had fallen for him so hard so fast, like a baby loves the hand that feeds him. She awaited his words with visible devotion shining in her lilac eyes.

"We've spent a great deal of time together these past few weeks and I've realized that I can't bear the thought of going on without you. I want us to spend our lives together. I want you to be my wife."

As soon as the first crystalline tears glossed over her amethyst eyes he knew he had her. This was perfect. She played into his hands like the ocean flowed to the shore.

"Nothing would make me happier!" She cried and embraced him.

It took every ounce of his will to repress his predator's grin. She would make a fine wife-as long as she stayed out of his way. He had no use for affection or dependents; she would be a symbol and nothing more. He had no intention of giving up anything for her, be it his ways or his women, that is, except for one.

No one had ever dared stand in his way before. No one had dared oppose or challenge him. No one's passion or spirit had ever matched his own.

No one except for _her._ She was his only true obstacle; then and especially now. She would have to be removed.

X

_No one delights in vengeance more than a woman._

_-Juvenal, Satires, XIII_

Nimble fingers curled around the neck of the crystal vase and sent it crashing into the far wall. These were graceful fingers, beautiful fingers, fingers that held experience and untold ability. These fingers took hold of a full length mirror and sent it sailing to the same resting place of the crystal vase. The only sounds louder than the shattering of delicate items were the feral, angry screams of their wielder. Kagome never did anything half way. When she was enraged she expressed it completely. She would not leave the room until every last object was destroyed. Kuronue stood in the back corner of the room studying her with caution and a bit of amusement. It was impossible to tell what Kagome would choose to do at any given moment. She changed her mind like a gypsy changed her home. She had a quick mind that understood everything presented to it with lightening speed, but her fiery temper was often the one that ended up making her decisions. Still, Kuronue could not say he was surprised with Kagome's reaction to the news that he gave her. Kurama intended to tell her himself, but Kuronue had known Kagome for many years and regarded her as a friend; he felt she deserved a little forewarning. At the moment, though, her volatile behavior was making him nervous. He may have only been the messenger, but she was a witch and a powerful one at that. Kuronue had been acquainted with the combination of her magic and temper for long enough to know that when she was like this everything in her sight was a target.

He was leaving her. HE was leaving HER! Her shock almost outmatched her fury. Kagome took hold of a priceless statue and launched it at the wall. The crumbling stone was oddly reminiscent of her now crumbling lifestyle. Her day had begun rather happily. She had awoken to find a message informing her of a visit from Kurama. Her body hummed in anticipation all day long. She didn't mind the anxious ache because she knew that once he arrived she would be sated and satisfied. Most women like her self are lucky if they can find a lover who gives a little compensation money to help them pay the rent. Kagome had never truly been quite like any other woman. Kurama was rich beyond imagining and kept her living more than comfortably, but had he been a poor beggar Kagome would not have minded in the slightest. He made her feel an ecstasy she never thought was possible. Just thinking of the physical pleasure he gave her made her whole body quiver and a whimper rose its way up her throat. Yes, Kagome's day held much promise. So much so, that when a visitor came to her quarters and she discovered him to be Kuronue she nearly cried out in anguish at the thought of more delay. Still, she was a clever and intuitive woman and she sensed that this was not merely a friendly visit.

"Kagome, I am torn." Kuronue took a deep breath before continuing, preparing himself for the inevitable storm.

"As I am sure you already know, Kurama comes to you today." Kagome's eyes narrowed in threatening suspicion, but she nodded yes.

"It gives me pain to go behind his back, but I feel you deserve some…notice."

Kagome had never been a patient woman and she was in no mood for evasive words.

"Speak your message, Kuronue," she growled.

"His visit is not one that you are used to. I am sorry to tell you, but Kurama comes to you today with the intention of ending his relationship with you in lieu of his fiancé."

She didn't even remember picking up the vase. The only evidence that she had touched it was its crystal remains scattered on the floor of the back wall. The whole day her body had been taught with sexual tension. This tension was redirected to the flood of anger she felt deep in her bones. She snapped like a frozen twig.

How dare he think he could just send her off?! It would be one thing if she were just some new toy of his that he had tired of quickly, but Kagome was no toy. She had been Kurama's mistress for the past five decades! No matter what relationships he had experimented with, no matter how many young wenches he bedded, Kagome was always his greatest desire and prized companion. And now he was getting married? Ha! Kagome knew Kurama better than anyone else and she knew that at best he was not the marrying kind. Even if he were, what woman but her was strong enough to handle him? No woman! This had to be a mistake, another one of his experiments. He would always come back to her. Their passion was far too strong. She excited him far too much. Yes, as soon as he arrived Kagome would find the truth and her burning rage would cool, her aching heart would be soothed.

Kuronue could only watch in astounded fear as he saw that familiar look creep on to her features. He had seen this look before many times. She had this same look when her favorite mirror was stolen and she had cornered the culprit in an alley. This look was on her face after a noble woman who had spoken fiercely about her behind her back suddenly went missing. Her face also assumed this identity the first time Kurama made an appealing impression on her. It was a look of power, a look of sheer maniacal confidence. This look held no fear of failure, and promised severe punishment to those who thought otherwise. It was the look of a hunter.

_May God help us all, _thought Kuronue as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

So how did I do?


End file.
